aerialiste



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  1. Rec *

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    Thinking that a reporter genuinely likes you is pretty much on par with feeling like you really are special to that stripper.

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    12 Jan 2019

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    "Do you think I'm fucking around?" Arthur asks, conversationally murderous. "Because I'm not fucking around." The kid swallows hard, because the kind of exhausted insanity Arthur is feeling is universal and telegraphed in the tightness of his shoulders and the fierce craziness of his eyes. "Now, sit down."

    The kid sits.

    "He's a copy editor," Tom explains to the holding cell at large.

    ***

    NB by the way that your curator worked the copy desk in the nineties, un-hyphenated a million adverbs, deleted a million serial commas and still sees word counts in column spreads. Perfection.

  2. Rec *

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    Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    49,493
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    1/1
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    04 Jan 2019

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    "Don't you talk to me about Slytherin," Malfoy snaps, looking angrier than Harry imagined he would because of a little house related slight. They joke about their houses all the time. "You know nothing about Slytherin. What would you have us do, when everyone hated us? When it seemed like even the adults had it in for us, sometimes? Somebody had to like us. Somebody had to have faith we could do something other than go mad and try to take over the world, or whatever you lot always expected of us. I always wonder if it ever occurred to them, at Hogwarts, that we were children, that they could cultivate us and encourage us in a certain way and then maybe we'd realise there were ways to be powerful and successful and cunning, ways to use our talents, without turning to the dark arts. I certainly would have liked that kind of influence a little earlier. We could have been great. We could have been great for you. But we weren't really told that very much, were we, and we weren't about to let you think you could get to us – that's not how you win anything, Potter. Shouldn't you know about winning things all the time?"

    Harry stares, Malfoy's words circling in his head. He's never thought of Slytherin this way. He's never really reconsidered how quickly he dismissed it as a viable option, how easily everybody assumed every Slytherin was not nice, no Slytherin would want to be part of the DA, no Slytherin had loyalty to Hogwarts or Dumbledore. He wonders if it was always every single Slytherin, who laughed at him in the dungeons or in the Great Hall.

    "I know I can't really blame everybody else for my choices," says Malfoy, flopping back down on his back and holding a hand to his forehead, as though steadying himself, or feeling for a fever. "They're still my choices, and they were still stupid, and the pureblood thing is still bullshit. But don't talk about Slytherin when you don't have a clue about it."

    There is a long silence, and finally, Harry says simply, "Okay."

    "I am very drunk," Malfoy says after another long pause.

    "Me, too," says Harry.

    "Why is it I'm always rambling on about my life when we're drunk together?" says Malfoy, turning to him with a pout. Harry looks at his lips and feels a very weird, low down twinge he doesn't think he wants to feel.

  3. Rec 1

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    so I stopped sleeping

    Series
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    English
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    32
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    1/1
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    8
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    21 Dec 2018

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    ...you're welcome, David Lynch.

  4. Rec *

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    The first time they were grown-ups, in the Golden Age, the Pevensies lived their lives almost entirely for Aslan - and then when they were thrown back to England, they lost years trying to recover their childhoods, going back to fight his wars for him.

    The second time, they don't let him in.

    *

    "And where are the kings and queens of the Golden Age? The Pevensies?"

    If a lion's expression - already thunderous, if only by the wild edge behind his eyes and the deadly jaws that glint as he speaks - could darken, it would. It's a strikingly obvious cold spot in the paradise of warmth that he has torn down a whole world to create.

    "They are no longer friends of Narnia. They think of only nylons and lipsticks and invitations, these days."

     

    Language:
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    20 Dec 2018

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    A god of death in the form of a lion, worlds away, would call her a sinner. But Susan will allow no one, neither god nor man, the right to dictate her life, or the lives of her siblings. Not this time.

  5. Rec *

    Summary

    All my Pevensie tumblr fic -- Susan after Narnia

    Words:
    11,993
    Works:
    7
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    619

    20 Dec 2018

    Bookmarker's Tags:
    Bookmarker's Notes

    holy

    fucking

    ASLAN ON TOAST

    THIS

    SERIES

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